Diary of a Submissive (a Tomb of Ashen Tears Book 4)

by Kailee Reese Samuels

  Stella Raniero isn’t my bitchy sister anymore. She is my mother, and she is broken. And everything about our prior relationship makes sense, from a distance, to her being under her parents’ thumbs. They weren’t my parents; they were hers. My parents didn’t exist.

  I grew up an emotional orphan, which is why I’m such a caustic mess now. “We are not done.”

  I get in the car and send a text to Iris. “Pack your things.”

  She quickly replies, “Yes, Sir. Be careful.”

  And I drive away, white-knuckling the steering wheel and sobbing the entire way back to Nonna’s house.

  15

  Don’t Water the Crops

  The Master

  Swerving into the driveway, I spot Iris by the door. She’s in a teal poet shirt and jeans. She’s still the same girl I fell in love with all those years ago.

  I sprint up to the door. “Are you packed?”

  “Yes, Sir!” She kisses my cheek as I fly past. “Sal…” she mumbles as I run up the staircase. “Raniero!”

  Pivoting mid-way up, I spot her at the base of the stairs. “Babe, I want to go before I lose my gumption.”

  She delicately whispers, “I already packed your things.”

  My mouth opens as I lean against the wall and crumble. Tears are on free flow as she meets me. Her hands reach for mine as we sit in silence on the steps. “I just found her, but if I don’t go…”

  “You will never get out from underneath Cesario.”

  I nod, contorting and twisting my expression—my brows shift on my forehead, and my lips curl—as I try and avoid being destroyed by the reality.

  Logical, business-minded Sal should be concerned of Iris’ motivations for encouraging my defection from Cesario, but my heart knows better.

  Could it benefit Lotus in the end?

  Absolutely.

  Is money behind her support of my leaving?

  Absolutely not.

  Iris wouldn’t use the personal situation against me in business. She might exploit situations with others but not me. “You need a clean break,” she says. “I understand. My mother did things to me I could never forgive as she tried to pull me further from the Japanese side.” I glance up with wet eyes. “It was so bad they insisted I go by Iris Kettles. She wanted to use who I was to elevate her position, and when I finally realized that, everything changed.”

  “That’s the thing, Iris…it’s not just Cesario,” I mutter, rubbing her fingers. “It’s Lucilla too. She is just as guilty as he is, if not more so because she knew what was happening and did nothing to try and protect her son…her grandson…me.”

  “It’s greed,” she whispers, staying close to me. “It’s like a drug, Sal. They get addicted and want more and more until they are willing to hurt anyone to get what they want. But that kind of power and control isn’t what true Dominance is. And it isn’t who you are. You are a good man, an honest man, and trying to do the right things for the right people.”

  “I’ve killed people.”

  “So have I,” she reminds. “People who were bad and shouldn’t have been walking around in the same air as the holy ones.”

  “We’re unholy.” I shake my head and stare at the ceiling. “We’re all going to hell.”

  “If our unholy acts can save one, we’re holy, too.” Her fingers caress over my cheek. “I believe we will be forgiven for the acts we’ve committed in vengeance. I believe in real love, loyalty, and faith. But at some point, we override the system and become judge and jury and issue a verdict condemning those who have sinned against us.”

  “We forgive those who trespass against us.”

  “Don’t be quoting scripture at me when you know damn well what it looks like to take a ten-year-old girl out of a trafficking cell. You know. You’ve seen it. There is no forgiveness for some crimes.”

  “I’ve breathed it,” I add, closing my eyes. “It’s in my soul. And the worst part is…I know if Cesario could put a gun to yours or Deacon’s head and he thought he could get away with it, he would.”

  “We leave,” she replies, kissing my lips. “We leave, and we never ever come back. We don’t look back. We move forward. And we keep marching on with the things we believe in.”

  “I hate what he’s done to Luca’s business. He’s become the thing I despise the most. He’s brought scum to a once distinguished name.”

  “It’s still distinguished enough to put you on The Commission,” she acknowledges, staying close to me. “You can change the game, but it may be tough for a long time. You may feel like you are back at square fucking one, but we do not stop. We keep going.”

  “Lotus doesn’t traffick.”

  “No, but the Goro gang does,” she points out. “And so do many others that Lotus sells to.”

  “Are you going to change it?”

  “I’m going to change many things.” Her sapphires blink at me. She’s wearing little makeup, only my favorite coral lipstick. “But to change, we have to be able to drive the market.”

  “Supply and demand.”

  “Exactly,” she agrees like a knowledgable businesswoman. “And until there are no more Gods, I am going to be doing whatever it takes to make sure Lotus remains in a position of power, influence, and before-it’s-time thinking.”

  “You’re going underground,” I guess.

  “It has been proposed.” She runs her fingers over the MORE THAN on my knuckles. “Technology, biochem, chips.”

  “You’re feeding me.”

  “I am merely suggesting that there are other ways of making blood money as opposed to crating up girls barely out of diapers and using them as sex slaves.” My very naughty librarian. “Sell the bangs and blow, double the profit, reinvest the original capital in more bangs and blow, and use the remaining profit in something more long-term until you can get out of bangs and blow.”

  “You are so fucking bad.”

  “Because I’m trading insider secrets with the guy I swap spit and other bodily fluids with?” She asks as we laugh. “If this is bad, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Sell the shares of RE before it flops in the water and smacks you in the face.”

  Banging my head against the wall one time, I sigh. “I…”

  “Just think about it,” she encourages. “You don’t want to be associated with Cesario much longer.”

  “You know something.”

  “I know many things, Mr. Raniero,” she charms, teasingly lifting her brows and smiling. “Including that the losses Lotus are having in Houston are intended.”

  “… Why?” I mumble.

  “The same reason farmers don’t water the crops.”

  “Oh my God… You’re playing chicken with Immortal.”

  She says nothing, but the sexy smile is confirmation enough. “I can neither confirm nor deny your suspicions, but if I were you, I’d be sitting on a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”

  “Holy fucking shit… You’re hooking up with Kill Rat.”

  She plants a kiss on my lips and walks back down the stairs. I chase after her. “Are you trying to get me out of my funk?” I ask as she lifts the bags. Immediately, I take them from her hands. “By pissing me off?”

  “It worked, didn’t it?”

  An hour later, I veer into the driveway of my farmhouse in the woods. Iris hasn’t said a word, but neither have I. I’m fucking pissed but not necessarily at her. The whole situation is fucked up.

  “Why is Dom standing in the driveway?”

  “Because I called him,” I abruptly say, turning off the engine of the Aventador. We get out. I light a smoke. “You ready for this?”

  Iris twirls her hair up into a clip. Fuck. I hate how damn beautiful she is. She wanders the driveway, looking into the woods, and crosses her arms.

  Dom pulls off his sunglasses and eyes Iris. “I take it all is not well with my happy couple?”

  “She’s drowning Lotus on purpose to fish out Immortal so she can hand Houston over to Kill Rat.”

 
; His brow arches high as he considers the insanity of what I’ve just said. “That might actually work.”

  “Fuck,” I grumble, rubbing my eyes and pulling off my ball cap. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Yeah, I do,” he replies, still staring at my girl. “Kill Rat is a whole lot bigger and more unified than everyone thinks. They aren’t some punk gang looking to score a few kilos. They’re much bigger than that and very underestimated.”

  “Did I make a mistake sending Rowan home to Texas with Trudy?”

  “No,” he dismisses. “And let me tell you why. Girls like that one there,” he says, pointing at Iris. “They’re kind of rare in this business. Iris has an in because she happens to be the granddaughter. Nepotism blessings, as it were. But for a girl like Rowan, struggling to get a foot up, it can be rough.”

  “… Do I invest?”

  “Well, you are aiding and abetting their traitorous midget. They certainly wouldn’t expect your investment, but they don’t have to know it’s you either. They could be hunting your ass while Sal Raniero’s outfit is making bank off their operation.”

  “Run faster.”

  With a smirk, he repeats, “Run faster.”

  “Shit.”

  “If you do it, I’ll go in 50/50 with you,” he surprisingly offers. “Just you and just me. Not Deacon. Not Nico. Hell, I’ll even do the deal with my name, so it puts some distance between you and I. Everyone will think the Raniero-Gennaro third war has commenced.”

  “Why not Cruz and Cristos?”

  “Deacon has enough issues with Cinco. I know you love Pico…”

  Taking a drag, I exhale and interrupt, “I wouldn’t say I love Pico.”

  “You feel a familial obligation to Cinco much like you do RE. You’ll fall out of love eventually. Hopefully, sooner rather than later.” He takes a few uncertain steps, using his cane. “But back to your question, Cruz needs to get RR up and moving on its own without Cinco support, or he’ll get eaten alive by Immortal just like I anticipate Cinco will. Nico is concerning because of his father’s peculiar adventures in Brazil.”

  “You think Delarte is cuddling up to Muerte?”

  “No, I know he is. There is no think about it. Muerte has men; Cristos has money. Those two hook up, and they could sink everyone, and give The Commission and Lotus a run for their money.”

  “And you think Iris is using Kill Rat…”

  “As a practice dummy, nothing more. She’s got limited resources in Houston. Immortal thinks they’ve got it in the bag. She unloads the full bomb of Kill Rat on them and wham bam boom…”

  “So many people are going to die,” I mutter.

  “I don’t think she’s losing any sleep over it,” he contends. “She cares about a few things, quite fiercely. Gun-toting, low-end gang members trying to off one another is not high on her priority list. Besides, she’s got Morpheus all up in her sweet ass.”

  “Don’t say it like that,” I groan, rolling my eyes. “Gah…what a way to kill a boner.”

  “You may not want to hear it, but it’s true. Morpheus is also underestimated, and they’re fucking thick and mean. He’s got forty-thousand units he can deploy and move around at will.”

  Gazing at my girl, I mutter, “He would do that for her…”

  “Many men would do things for her,” he declares. “Have you seen her? Have you met her? She’s a damn powerhouse. I wouldn’t fuck with her whatever you do. Fuck her. Don’t fuck with her, or she will steamroller your ass and not even break a sweat.”

  “I’m a fucking bean.” I squat down and grip the bridge of my nose. “There is no reason…”

  “Don’t say it,” he warns, tapping his cane on my ass. “Salvatore Raniero is an upstart. Things will improve.”

  “… Should I get rid of my RE shares?”

  “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Sell them to me cheap.”

  “Are you fucking kidding?”

  “Yes, I wouldn’t give you a penny for them, not with Delarte sniffing Muerte’s ass like a bitch looking to score. There is only one person who is going to get fucked in that deal.”

  “My former fucking father…”

  “Yep,” he agrees as Iris hunkers down. “What is she doing?”

  “There is baby deer right there,” I whisper, pointing and watching as it comes closer to her. “Holy shit.” I slowly pull out my phone and snap pictures.

  “What’s with you and the photos, are you losing your mind?”

  I glance up to Dom. “No, I’m decorating the house of my future bride.”

  “That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

  I shrug. “I am in love with the Japanese mafia princess.”

  “That you are, Boston.” He proudly smiles. “Don’t let her intimidate you in business. You have options in Lotus, use them wisely, wise guy.” He winks. “You’re a made man, Raniero, don’t forget it.”

  “I feel more like a bum on the street compared to her.”

  “That’s your insecurity talking and not what she wants,” he says as the deer sniffs her hand, and I snap a thousand pictures. “She wants a confident man.” He ambles over to the car. “Are you sure you want me to drive this home?”

  “Yes,” I assure without hesitation. “Boston is Texas-bound.”

  16

  Let’s Just Get In The Truck & Go

  His Butterfly

  I don’t follow Sal into the house because we are at odds over a stupid business deal. And in comparison to my relationship with Sal, all business is stupid. If he wanted me to walk away from Lotus, I would. He would never ask that of me, though, because he’s far too enamored by it.

  His girlfriend is a mafia princess set on a path to take the throne. And that’s a big deal in his world. Bigger in his mind than mine because he grew up in the throes of corruption.

  I did not.

  I had a nanny and two parents who walked away from their responsibility of raising me—in any environment. When they couldn’t come to a reasonable agreement, they left me at three.

  Fair to say, my father, Raiko, has paid dearly for these sins. Keishi refused his involvement in the family business for over twenty-five years. And well, Lydia is dead thanks to a dirty deal from Dom. If asked who raised me, my answer will always be the same—I did.

  In a way, I am the exact polar opposite of him.

  Sal’s parents fought to control everything.

  Mine couldn’t agree and tossed me into the hands of men, the likes of Angelo Gennaro and Atticus Huit.

  We were mistakes that never should’ve happened, yet here we are with Sal carrying out several military-style black cases. I know what’s in them—guns, computers, cash, probably a few fake passports—and somewhere in all of it, a badge as a government contractor.

  Let me make one thing abundantly clear when running away. There is no better person to run away with than a black ops agent. He is an expert at disappearing and making things vanish. And that is the same reason he is such an incredible force and competition in the criminal underground.

  He hasn’t realized it yet, but I have.

  When he finally gets his footing—establishing himself alone—outside of The Unholy and Raniero Enterprises, The Commission will get their money’s worth out of him.

  He sets the cases on the tailgate and hops into the truck bed. He’s in ripped jeans, white t-shirt, and sexhat—the backward ball cap—looking so dreamy I don’t even think we’ll make it out of the driveway.

  “You resemble yourself, Agent Raniero,” I observe, coming closer and handing him the boxes stacked in the driveway.

  “You don’t have to help me,” he huffs, ripping off his shirt and wiping his face. Why does he do this to me? He tosses the wet thing to me, and I stick my nose in it. “Iris…No! Do not smell my sweat.”

  “Oh, yes!” I giddily spin in a circle, high on his scent and him. Leaning closer, I whisper, “And yes, I do have to help you.”

  He stops, his chest undulating and rippling t
hose lick-worthy abs with every breath. “… Why Kill Rat?”

  “If we’re in the truck and driving, I’ll tell you.”

  His eyes scan over the area. “Let’s get in the truck and go.”

  He leaps down and takes my hand as we walk to the passenger side. “House locked?”

  “Yep,” he says, picking me up and putting me in the seat. He urgently spreads my legs and wedges his body between them.

  I told you we might not make it out of the driveway.

  “I don’t want to fight with you about this,” I whisper as he leans closer and flicks his tongue against my lip. His green eyes shine like fiery emeralds. “I never once believed I was more than you or better than you or more worthy than you. And if I can give you a tip here or there to elevate your game, I’m going to fucking do it because I love you with all that I am.”

  “I’m going to give you the tip in a minute,” he snickers and thrusts his tongue in my mouth.

  I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders. We feel so good like I always knew we would. For so many years, I dreamed—and touched myself—thinking about these little moments. I have them now. We’re on the cusp of something beautiful, and I never want it to stop. My fingers ease under his belt, suggesting something more. “You want to make love to me?”

  “I do,” he replies, sucking on my neck. “When we get to Maine.”

  “… Maine?”

  “After your belly is full of fresh crab and I have properly bathed you, I’m going to fuck the hell out of my kitten.”

  “Meow—ala.”

  “You got it.” His eyebrows dart up as I feel his arousal pressing into me. “The only question is, do you want chocolate mousse or cheesecake for dessert?”

  Is that really a question?

  “… Both?”

  He chuckles heartily. “And pink or white bubbles?”

  “White,” I surprisingly answer, biting my lip.

  “Alright, I’ll call when you fall asleep.”